


all heart

by Halbeary



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks, anxiety mention, warm caring love & support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halbeary/pseuds/Halbeary
Summary: "How do you do it?""Nervous breakdowns every second Sunday."





	all heart

**Author's Note:**

> in birds of prey ted's doctor mentions that he's had a heart attack THREE FUCKING TIMES without noticing over the course of his life. ted also mentions in JLI that he's prone to nervous breakdowns. I figured that the two probably overlapped at some point.

_They aren’t going to make it._

It’s the only thing he can think as another house-sized laser skims off the hull of the Bug, shaking the entire ship as he clings to the armrests and desperately reroutes power from every non-vital ship function to the shields. The blinking display in front of him has a readout– solar power cells at 12%, shields practically non-existent. _At least the coffee machine is still working_ , he notes with a tired nod of acceptance. Maybe he can use it as a projectile, if literally everything else goes to shit.

 _Which,_ Ted thinks as he swerves the Bug out of the way of a huge chunk of skyscraper, _is beginning to look like the case._

Something collides with the armored outer shell and Ted desperately swings upward, heart pounding in his chest as he grits his teeth against the g-force. He sees something gold fly past the yellow-tinted windows, followed by a pained shout in his comms.

“Booster? You okay buddy?”

There’s a crackling sound. No response. Ted can feel the sweat clinging to the inside of his goggles. _Goddamnit. Fuck fuck fuck– he can’t worry about that right now._  Booster has a force field from the 25th century. _He’ll be okay_. He says it out loud, too, just for good measure.

The room sways for a moment and Ted squeezes his eyes shut. Something twinges behind his rib cage.

“Not now, brain,” he grits through teeth clenched tight. He feels vaguely lightheaded, nausea churning in his gut. “Nervous breakdown _after_ crisis, not during. We’ve discussed this.”

His scanners are still making those reassuring whirring noises that means that they’re doing _something_.. maybe not the _right_ thing, but definitely something. He checks the screen; J’onn pummels Big Glowing Evil Man into a cell tower, which then explodes. Ted whistles into his headset.

“Am I the only one who remembers the UN’s lecture about property damage?”

He gets no response. _Typical_. One of his sensors beeps and Ted scrambles to read the output.

“Guys–” blue eyes dart over the lines of code “– might have a way to take him out.” He closes his eyes and tries to put the strings of data together in a way that’s actually useful around the pounding in his ears. The air catches in his throat when he tries to take a deep breath. _Not good_. His body obviously didn’t catch the memo about the whole _no panicking on the job_ thing.

“ _Any time now, Blue!_ ” Bea’s voice is cut off by a plume of fire that shoots up at least a hundred feet high. _Damn_. Ted jumps in his seat and shakes his head in an attempt to clear out the sudden clammy feeling. When he looks back at the display it’s swirling in a nauseating pattern. _Very not good_.

“Okay, okay, um–” it would be great if he could actually take a full breath without his lungs feeling like they’re about to burst. Definitely not very conducive to trying to find a solution to this clusterfuck; his brain tends to need oxygen to actually function.

He sees Tora’s comm connection flicker, and then it’s gone. Bea screams her name in his headset and his stomach drops. He clenches his jaw and pushes aside the burning sensation in his chest. _Focus, Ted._

“Nate, after he uses his blast there’s a–” he closes his eyes and mentally calculates the numbers from the image he has of the readouts “– a 4.3 second interval where he has to recharge. His weird aura thing, whatever it is, is unstable during that time. If you can absorb it, and then refocus it to–”

“ _On it.”_ Ted recognizes the distorted voice of Captain Atom as he zooms past the Bug’s window, directly into Mystery Menace and launches him upwards. _Uh oh_. _Bad position, bad position_ –

“Everyone take cover!” He sends the Bug into a nosedive as quick as he can. “It’s about to get a little b–”

A huge explosion rocks through the night sky and Ted braces himself against the dash of the Bug and waits for the–

“ _Ah!_ ”

– the shockwave to hit him and oh god, that _really_ hurt. The Bug tilts to the right and he desperately flicks the stabilizers and _of course_ they’re not working, that’s just his fucking luck. One inadvisable backflip out of his seat later and his knees hit the ground, edges of his vision getting dark and he can’t pass out right now, he _really_ can’t or else the Bug and, more importantly, the Bug’s lone occupant, will be a splatter on the pavement four hundred feet below.

“Shit, shit, _shit._ ” He claws his way towards the backup power supply– _why did he put it all the way at the back of the Bug? stupid_ – every beat of his heart feeling like it’s about to cause a rupture straight out of his chest, until he finally, _finally_ manages to tug down the handle. The Bug gives a tremulous jerk, once, twice, before giving in and leveling out. Ted lets out a sob of relief.

“Thank fuck.”

His head hits the back of the metal supply closet he stored the backup power supply in. _Okay, Ted. Deep breaths, you know the drill_.

He closes his eyes and tries to suck in a breath but is cut off by his own grunt of pain as the burning sensation in his chest gets even worse. _Damn, this is a next level panic attack._ Maybe he should see a psychiatrist.. though, he has no idea how he’d explain the whole ‘ _sometimes when I’m fighting with my friends against some otherworldly evil I feel a little overwhelmed’_ thing. Maybe he could substitute ‘crime fighting’ for something less obvious.. like ‘swing dancing’. He realises he may be getting a little off-topic.

His limbs are heavy and vaguely numb-feeling as he reaches to flick the the switch on his ear piece.

“Everyone okay?”

He waits five seconds, everyone one of them filled with pulsating pain radiating out from his chest and into his extremities, before J’onn’s voice crackles to life.

“Tora’s unconscious, but has not suffered any permanent damage. Everyone else is battered, but otherwise unharmed.”

Ted lets out a breath. _Booster's okay_. A tiny bit of the panic dies down, only to swiftly be replaced by a wave of nausea.

“Great,” his voice sounds high-pitched and strained and he rubs at his chest ineffectually. “Bug’s landing now.” He presses a sensor in his lower left armband and his stomach flops as the Bug starts to descend. Another quick button combo and the autopilot is set. “I set the course back to HQ, I just need to– to, um,” the burning sensation is getting worse, sweat pooling in the bottom of his goggles, “to adjust a power coupling. Hop on board whenever, she’ll take off once everyone is here.”

He flicks off his communicator and drops his head down in between his legs. It’s dark and isolated in this tiny subsection of the Bug, and for that Ted is grateful. He doesn’t want anyone else to seem him like this. He wasn’t even _fighting,_ for christ’s sake _._ His heart throbs in his chest and he grinds his teeth together to stop the involuntary whimper from escaping his mouth. _Man, this does not feel normal_ , he thinks as he listens to his own ragged gasps bounce off the walls of the supply closet. This is more acute; more painful, like he's reached a level of anxiety previously unknown to man. _Ted Kord,_  he thinks somewhat deliriously, _making new discoveries every day_. The room feels like it’s spinning underneath him and he _really_ hopes he doesn’t throw up in his own Bug. That would be super embarrassing. Booster would never let him live it down.

Heavy arms reach for the chin strap on his uniform and he tugs it off his head before he slumps further to the ground, no longer able to support his own weight.

His eyes burn. _God, he’s so pathetic_. Laying here in this closet letting his own brain overwhelm him while everyone else just got tossed around like ants doing actual, world-saving activities. His chest throbs again and he can’t quite stop the _hiss_ of pain as the burning sensation steadily increases.

Not for the first time tonight, he’s afraid.

 _Fuck._ He hates this. Why is he  _so–_

The door slides open with a quiet _swish_ and Ted scrambles to push himself into a more dignified position. His arm gives out from under him and he ends up sinking further to the floor. _Damnit_. A soot-covered blue boot enters his line of sight.

“Ted?”

He lets out a sigh of relief that it’s just Booster– unharmed, alive Booster– that kneels down next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. The touch causes another wave of pain and he clenches his eyes tight and pushes his face against the cool metal wall with a pathetic sound he desperately tries swallow.

“Ted, what’s wrong? What happened?” Booster’s voice sounds panicked, and that just makes him feel _more_ panicked and oh great, now they’re feeding off each other. “Are you hurt, did something–”

Booster’s bare hand curls around the back of his neck and then he’s being shuffled around, propped back up against the wall behind him. The room spins, his chest throbs and he doesn’t have the strength to stop himself when his head falls forward to _thunk_ against Booster’s shoulder. He tries to muffle his pained breaths, but it’s hard to focus when he feels about ten seconds away from either spontaneously combusting or passing out; the final outcome is still up in the air on that one.

“Okay,” Booster’s voice is right next to his ear, fingers twisted in what Ted’s sure is super gross, sweat-matted hair at the base of his neck, and then– “I’m getting J’onn, we’ll figure out what’s going on, okay?”

Booster goes to move, presumably to carry him off into the open where everyone can see his embarrassing mental breakdown and he musters the strength to lift his hand to cover the star on the middle of Booster’s uniform.

“Mikey, don’t,” his voice sounds like it’s been through a blender and he winces as he forces the words out. “It’s not serious, it’s just a–” his heart gives another painful _pang_ and he muffles his reaction against the smooth microcircuitry of Booster’s suit “– um, a- panic attack. It’s fine, I’ll be fine I just need,” he gasps the words out and waits a moment for the ensuing wave of nausea to pass, “a minute, _fuck_.”

He can feel Booster hesitate, senses the way he’s practically vibrating with indecision. Ted fights down whatever embarrassment he might feel.

“ _Please_.” He already has zero respect as it is, he can’t let the League see him like this. “M’okay, I promise.”

Booster waits another ten seconds before settling back against the wall. Ted forgets that Booster is holding up his entire body weight and tumbles forward against his chest. _Ow_. He tries to push himself off but his fingers are trapped somewhere between Booster’s back and the wall, his mouth somewhere around Booster’s collarbone. _Well, this is embarrassing_. He sucks in another breath and it feels slightly easier this time, more manageable.

“Sorry.”

He hears Booster _huff_ and then a sturdy arm wraps around his back and tugs him tight against one gold-covered chest. Booster's chin settles on top of his head. Ted’s eyes slip closed. _God, he’s so warm_.

“It’s okay,” Booster murmurs into the silence of the closet, his tone quiet and serious. “I know what it’s like.”

Booster’s hand drifts up and down his spine and he really shouldn’t be finding that simple motion as comforting as he is, but he’s _tired,_ goddamnit. He’s exhausted, can barely manage to pump enough oxygen into his lungs to keep him going, his chest is still throbbing painfully every second or two, and he _did_ just find a way to save an entire city block, so.. he lets himself have this. He makes a questioning noise into Booster’s neck when what he said finally hits him.

“Yes," Booster snorts, "I’m sorry to say that anxiety is one of the things that makes it all the way to the 25th century. Sorry to crush your dreams.”

Ted tries for a laugh, but the sound gets caught in his throat and he coughs instead, fingers clenching against Booster’s belt. _Ow._ Booster's hand pats at his back a little bit until he can catch his breath.

“What–” he finally manages, gasping out the words through each stilted inhale “– why did you..?” His chest seizes up again and he buries his face further into the crook of Booster’s neck as he shakes.

Booster's quiet for a minute, and just when Ted accepts that he’s not going to answer the hand on his back sinks into his hair, thumb and index finger rubbing at the base of his neck.

“Towards and end of my football career I was basically getting blackmailed.” He can feel Booster’s chin moving on top of his head as he speaks. Ted stays quiet, concentrating on controlling his breathing. “Every day I’d wake up thinking that _this is it_ , that today’s the day they decide that they’re done with me. That today is the day that they’re going to turn me in.”

He hears Booster let out a frustrated-sounding sigh. His fingers squeeze against the star on his chest in quiet support.

“I mean, it was my fault for getting into that mess, I know that, but–” Booster’s fingers twitch against his neck, his chin tilting backwards off the top of his head as he bangs it against the wall, and Ted knows he’s mentally beating himself up. He can’t muster the energy to say _stop that_ , so instead he knocks his jaw against Booster’s collarbone to snap him out of it. Booster stills. Ted counts five seconds, ten– and then he slumps his chin back on top of Ted’s hair and resumes rubbing up and down the base of his neck. He sighs.

“Anyways, it wasn’t that great for my mental health.” Booster shifts his chin back and forth. “I was getting one of these almost every day towards the end there. I know how much they suck.”

Ted’s heart twists again, but this time not because of his dumb brain messing with him. Just imagining Booster having to deal with this just because he was trying to help his mom makes his heart break. Not for the first time, he’s struck by how goddamn lucky he is that Booster chose to rob that museum and stumble into his life at _this_ particular moment in time. He could have gone anywhere, anywhere in the _entirety of time_ , but he came _here_ ; came barging into his lonely, depressing life and filled it up with endless laughter and ridiculously perfect smiles, just in time to wrap around him like a koala and help him deal with his nervous breakdown. Ted’s hand slips from Booster’s chest to his arm so he can give a tired little squeeze. He feels Booster _hum_ from where his face is still pressed up against his neck.

His heart gives one final pang, and then it fades to something more tempered, more like an ache. Ted runs a mental assessment– lungs appear to be somewhat functioning, chest no longer feels like it’s about to explode. Limbs still shaky, but he can feel the tips of his fingers again, so that’s something. He’s usually cold after one of these things, but he’s practically welded to Booster’s suit, and the warm buzzing of his microcircuitry combined with his body heat is making him sleepy.

The Bug’s not moving, he realises; probably hasn’t been for a while. He makes an effort to rotate his head towards the door, but Booster still has him trapped.

“I’m okay now, I think,” he murmurs into the thin gold fabric. His nose brushes against Booster’s bare neck, and for some reason that tiny motion more than anything else makes him blush. _It’s probably about time for his embarrassment to catch up to him_ , he reasons, _especially since he just spent the last god knows how long essentially_ cuddling _with his best friend_.

Booster hesitates a moment before shifting to scoop his headpiece off the ground.

“Everyone’s gone. You okay to move?”

Ted nods against his chest. Booster scoots his hips and lifts them both with ease. Ted’s eyes slipped closed as he lets himself bask in the feeling of Booster pressed up against him like this, just for a moment, and then he takes a deep breath and takes a step back out of his grip–

– only to have his legs give out from under him. He lets out an undignified _yelp_ as Booster catches him. _Of course, as if this all wasn’t embarrassing enough_. He lets himself be manhandled into a bridal carry without too much protest. If he has any pride _left_ after this, he’ll be surprised.

“Oh no, by all means let me carry you to your room, fair maiden.” Booster opens the door to the supply closet with his butt and readjusts Ted in his arms before floating off the ground and towards the exit of the Bug. “I didn’t get nearly enough of a workout battling this week’s Mystery Menace, so thank you.”

Ted snorts, some of the embarrassment draining out of him as they slip back into their old banter. “Heh. That’s what I called him.”

Booster huffs a little and Ted can see him grin as he pokes his head around the blue metal corner. Ted’s head rocks into Booster’s chest as they float off towards the base. He always likes flying with Booster. There’s something comforting about it, the way his hair ruffles in the breeze, the way he always sways back and forth like a kid on a bike as he cuts through the air. The way that he has an excuse to press up against Booster’s super firm chest and be extra clingy. Ted blinks. _Okay, time to stop this train of thought._

They’re at his room before he knows it. Miraculously and with, he suspects, some generous help from Booster’s infrared setting on his goggles, they didn’t run into a single person on the way back. Ted is so, _so_ grateful. So grateful, in fact, that now that they’re here and Mike is propping him up against the doorframe to his room, he struggles to articulate just how thankful is he for what he did.

Before he can think of something to say, Booster steps forward, stretches his arm up and braces it above Ted’s head. Ted blinks in surprise. The motion puts him so close that Ted has to crane his neck to meet his gaze. _Why is he so tall? Unfair._ His face feels hot as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth.

“You’ll come get me if this happens again, right?” Booster’s eyes are wide and earnest, his eyebrows slightly furrowed like he’s worried and Ted’s heart skips one too many beats as he stares at him. His lips feel dry all of a sudden, so he swipes his tongue out to wet them and doesn’t miss the way that Booster’s eyes flick down at the movement.

“I– I mean,” his hand moves to scratch at the back of his head instinctively but the motion just shunts his chest closer to Booster so he does an awkward abort at the last moment and looks down at his feet. “It’s not that big of a deal, I can just–”

Booster’s thumb pushes his chin back up. _Oh god_. He can’t deal with this, he’s definitely way too emotionally drained to deal with the way Booster's is looking at him right now, with that slightly exasperated expression and almost fond tilt to his mouth.

“ _Ted._ ”

He puts his hands up in an attempt to create a little distance before things get _really_ embarrassing. “Okay, okay. I will. Promise.”

Ted glances back up. Booster shifts like he’s about to pull away, then hesitates, like he has something else he wants to say– but then he just lets out a breath and tips back against the opposite side of the doorframe with a small smile. The scientist in him can’t help but observe that his face looks slightly flushed as he runs a hand through his stupid perfect hair.

“Good.”

Booster moves like he’s about to leave and Ted reaches out to snag his arm, his stomach churning with nerves.

“Boost,” he drops his arm as Booster turns back around. He makes sure to look him in the eye as he speaks. “Thank you, for what you–” he’s so tired his words are slurring together. He clear his throat and attempts to annunciate. “I mean, you didn’t have to do that.”

Booster’s eyebrows pinch at that, and he opens his mouth to speak but Ted cuts him off.

“And if you ever, well–” he flails his arm in a helpless gesture. He’s so exhausted he can barely think, he knows he must not be making sense. Ted catches Booster's gaze again and shrugs with a small smile. He decides to just keep it simple.

“If you need me, I’m here.”

Booster blinks, eyebrows lifting in what looks like surprise, and then he smiles– that wide, full-dimple, million dollar smile that, even though Ted will not admit it under any circumstances, makes his knees go a bit weak. Ted sees him incline his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment. He lifts off the ground.

“Get some sleep, Ted. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Ted rubs at his eyes. He _feels_ like he’s about to fall over, limbs heavy and chest still aching like he got punched in the chest by Doomsday instead of freaking out on the floor of his Bug. “Yeah, yeah.” He shoots Booster another grateful smile as he slips into his room.

“Night, Boost.”

The look that Booster gives him before floating away with a quiet ‘ _night, Ted_ ’ makes something warm curl in his stomach as he tosses his hood onto the floor and collapses on top of his bed. He lets the overwhelming feeling of gratitude slip over him like a blanket, closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> note: please see a fuckin doctor if you think you're having a heart attack. the [**symptoms**](http://www.medicinenet.com/heart_attack_symptoms_and_early_warning_signs/article.htm) are different if you're male or female. it can feel a lot like a panic attack which is sorta where this idea came from!!
> 
> also this is my first time writing boostle, so please let me know if i fuckin suck. i _did_ binge read all of their comics (and I mean _all_ ) before writing but i'm still a tiny bit unsure of their characterizations, so!
> 
> u can send me prompts here if: like bloostle.tumblr.com


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